To the Victors Go the Spoils
by raskapuska
Summary: After the triumph of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore's Army finds itself in the clutches of the enemy. Claimed as war prizes, our heroes are distributed among Voldemort's most trusted followers. Chapters can be read together as one story or individually as one-shots. BDSM themes - specific warnings in each chapter. Mature readers only. HP/LV; RW/SS; HG/LM/NM; GW/DM; NL/BL; LL/FG
1. Chapter 1

"Bring in my special guests. It is high time we earn our reward," a cold voice called from the front of the room.

"Yes, My Lord," came the first reply.

"Right away, My Lord," followed the second.

Lord Voldemort watched as two of his lower-ranked Death Eaters turned sharply on their heels and strode out the door of the Great Hall. He listened attentively as their footsteps echoed down the dungeon stairs, the only noise in an otherwise silent Hogwarts castle. His remaining Death Eaters stood at the edges of the large room, leaving the center empty, the tables having been either unceremoniously shoved to the sides or damaged during the battle.

_Come to me,_ the dark wizard called to his serpent, Nagini, who slithered from a sunny spot underneath one of the windows and raised her head to her master's lap. _They came much too close, my precious. We must keep you safer from now on._

The reptile nuzzled the man's hand in agreement and hissed, _Do not fret, we will have our chance of revenge on the boy. _The serpent stuck out its tongue in anticipation of its next meal, and Voldemort chuckled darkly.

_No, no, Nagini, I have a much better idea than that._

At that moment, the two Death Eaters returned, leading a small troupe of shackled teenagers into the hall. Jeers and applause erupted from the throng of darkly cloaked figures, but the two men leading the prisoners paid no mind, continuing to lead their charges toward the Head Table, where Voldemort sat in Dumbledore's former chair as if it were a throne.

"Welcome, Harry Potter and friends," Voldemort smiled, eliciting a laugh from his Death Eaters. Then, turning to his Death Eaters, he ordered, "Garthside, Blakemore, you can let them go now."

The two men threw the prisoners on the ground with disgust, and the teens landed on a heap at the Dark Lord's feet. With a wave of his wand, Voldemort vanished their shackles. Immediately scrambling to their feet, they stood defiantly against their enemy.

"We're not afraid of you!" Neville shouted, earning even more laughter from Voldemort's followers.

"I can see that," Voldemort mocked, and his crew of masked villains chuckled, as if on command. "How very brave of you – Longbottom, is it?" he raised his voice, as if giving an eloquent speech to his followers and captives alike, "I like to reward bravery. I despise cowards. Under other circumstances I would generously offer you a position in my rather exclusive group –"

Ron spat at the ground by the man's feet.

"—but seeing as how you children have proven to be quite bothersome to me, I'm afraid I cannot do that," he continued, paying no mind to his prisoner's reactions. "However, I am a kind man. What I can do is offer you positions in more mundane areas, such as cooking and cleaning this beautiful castle, which is to be my new headquarters and home." His Death Eaters guffawed.

"Hogwarts will never open itself to you, you know, when you have taken her by force," Luna warned with wide eyes.

"Silly girl. It already has. My magic is powerful, and the castle recognizes that. She has yielded to me, as will all, eventually. What say you to my offer?"

Ginny stepped up, "You are downright daft if you think any of us would willingly do anything to help you, even if it is cleaning your stupid headquarters!"

Voldemort issued a dramatic sigh. "I thought we might come to this. In this case, I have no other choice."

"We're not afraid to die," Harry Potter spoke calmly.

Voldemort suddenly became serious and dangerously dark. "I know, boy. I'm not about to make a martyr out of any of you; you do not deserve as much. If you are not inclined to work willingly, then I suppose I will just have to make you perform."

"Slave labor? Is that your idea of a fate worse than death? You're pathetic," Hermione taunted. Ron quickly put his arm around her, as if to protect her.

"You clearly misunderstand me, but I'm sure that things will become clear to you sooner rather than later. You will be helping revive a long-lost wizarding tradition." He turned to his Death Eaters, "Which of you feel that you deserve a gift from your Master for your good deeds?"

Bellatrix Lestrange's shrill voice was the first to ring out, "Ooohhhh! Pick me! Pick me! I've been soooo good, Master! I deserve a treat!"

"Very well, make your choice, but Potter is mine." Harry looked at the dark wizard, eyes devoid of fear.

Oblivious to this exchange, Bellatrix sauntered over to the front of the room, kneeled in front of her lord, and kissed his robes dramatically and repeatedly.

"Oh, thank you, My Darkest of Lords. I'm forever your humblest servant. Your gift will not be wasted."

Voldemort waved her away with annoyance, and the witch turned slowly around. She looked each of the teens in the eye, until her gaze fell upon Neville's face. A wide smile broke through her gaunt features, and she pointed to the boy, "Can I have the pudgy one?" Neville gulped.

After receiving permission from Voldemort, Bellatrix turned to the small vestige of Dumbledore's Army and pouted, "All you beauties would have been fine, but this one is special," and with a wave of her wand, Neville was bound from head to toe in ropes and levitated towards the door. Harry turned and made a motion to run after his friend. In response, Voldemort lazily flicked his wand and ropes coiled around the boy's feet and arms, causing him to land on the stone floor with a thump. The remaining five teenagers found themselves similarly bound, unable to move.

"Neville!" Luna shrieked.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Bellatrix yelled back from the door. "This boy toy and I are going to have soooo much _fun_!" she cackled, sending shivers down the spines of his captured students.

"My Lord," a gruff voice came from the shadows, "I would like one of them for myself."

Voldemort simply nodded towards the five struggling figures on the floor, and a large, animal-looking man came and began sniffing at their throats. When he reached Luna, he stopped and murmured, "You're the one I've been waiting for." Without further warning, Fenrir Greyback hoisted the young woman over his head and practically ran out the door, paying no heed to the desperate shouts of the girl's former classmates.

"Good, good," Voldemort murmured. "Any other takers? How about you, Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and bowed towards his master. "My Lord, my wife and I had been planning on indoctrinating our son on the wizarding companionship practices of old. We would be most obliged if Your Darkness would gift Draco a servant."

"Of course, of course," Voldemort smiled widely. "I approve most fervently, Draco. Do not be shy, boy. Claim your prize."

Draco Malfoy, his face even paler than usual, took a few steps toward the prisoners, his former classmates. Keeping his eyes averted from both Voldemort and the bound figures on the floor, he spoke to no one in particular, "I'll take the Weasley girl."

Ron and Harry both began to writhe and protest loudly, shouting curse words at the Malfoys. Voldemort, with a sigh, lazily flicked his wand, and gags appeared around the mouths of the two boys, whose muffled cries continued, much to the amusement of the dark wizard and his followers.

"Ginny," Hermione whispered so only her friend could hear. "Be brave. You can do this."

"You too, Hermione. I'll come for you if I get out."

Before the bushy-haired witch had time to respond, Draco had pulled Ginny to her feet. He untied to ropes that bound her ankles and knees together, grabbed her neck, and forced her to walk to where the rest of the Malfoy family stood. Lucius looked his son's choice up and down, and gave an approving nod. Narcissa bent her head towards her husband and muttered, "Darling, do you think we could –"

"Ahhh, Narcissa!" Voldemort's voice rang out, interrupting, "Are you also interested in taking one for your own?"

Lucius gave his wife a dangerous look, but the woman stepped forward and spoke, "Yes, My Lord. Lucius has often been away from home, and having a companion would be most pleasing to –"

"I will NOT have you sharing my bed with another, Narcissa," rang Lucius' booming voice. His wife turned to him, shocked. Draco looked at the ground, embarrassed by his parents' outburst.

"Darling," Narcissa spoke, more quietly this time, "Would you object if I chose the girl? Certainly we will not refuse the Dark Lord's offer."

"Very wise, Narcissa," Voldemort interrupted yet again. "You may have the Mudblood. I hope you get some good use out of her." Without another word, Hermione's body levitated towards the Malfoys, landing at Lucius' feet. Harry and Ron shouted even louder underneath their gags, their protests completely ignored. Lucius glared at the girl crumpled on the floor with repulsion, but looked up at his master and spoke, "Thank you, My Lord. We are ever grateful for your kindness."

At this, Voldemort stood up. "We have one left. Does anyone have want of the Weasley boy?"

No one spoke up for a few seconds, then a well-known voice spoke from the shadows, "If there is no other who desires the boy, I have use for him."

"Severus," Voldemort spoke with surprise, "I was not aware of your… inclinations."

"I am afraid that is not so, My Dark Lord. I simply need a servant more competent than a house-elf." The Headmaster then turned to his fellow Death Eaters, "However, if any of you have want of a scrawny ginger boy, I would be more than willing to lend him out on occasion." His comment was met with cheers from the crowd.

Snape walked over, yanked Ron up by his hair, and began marching him down towards the dungeons. Having finished distributing the prisoners, Voldemort walked over the where Harry lay, and waved his wand over the boy while speaking, "I will be with you shortly, boy. In the meantime, try to make yourself comfortable." Harry disappeared with a pop, and Ginny and Hermione screamed, earning them both violent slaps from Lucius.

"You are dismissed, Death Eaters," Voldemort called to the crowd. "For those of you who chose to remain in the castle or in the village, we shall be having a celebratory feast this evening. If you are returning to your homes, tomorrow morning shall be our next gathering. Congratulations, we have won the war."

With shouts of triumph, the masked figures filed out. Voldemort called to Nagini, and began strolling towards the Chamber of Secrets, where Harry Potter would be waiting for him.

* * *

Author's Note - All right, this is how this story is going to work: each chapter will be a the POV of either Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, or Luna. There might be a few other group chapters like this one thrown in as well. I'm planning on having an overarching plot, but this is basically a series of connected one-shots. This means that you are free to jump around as much as you would like. Happy readings, friends, and pretty please favorite and review


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: mild psychological torture

* * *

Voldemort's leisurely-taken steps echoed in the vast, damp chamber underneath the Hogwarts Castle. Snake-like eyes immediately settled on the black-haired figure that lay, still bound, beneath a gigantic statue of the Hogwarts founder Salazar Slytherin. The boy had ceased to struggle; he simply stared at the billowing black robes of the most feared wizard in all of Britain as he approached. Voldemort's lips curled in a dangerous smirk.

"Harry Potter," he drawled, "How very glad I am to have you. I certainly hope you enjoy your time with me. I shall make sure it is… remarkable for you."

Harry grunted through his gag in reply. Voldemort watched him struggle with amusement, then spoke.

"Shall I give you a tour of my humble abode?"

Not waiting for an answer, Voldemort caused Harry to levitate slowly behind him towards a large door located behind Slytherin's statue. The man touched the door, muttering something in Parseltongue that Harry could not quite hear, and the doors magically swung open. The two passed the threshold, and with a flourish of his wand, Voldemort caused the large fireplace to spew out blue-green flames. Harry craned his neck as far as he could in both directions, attempting to absorb as much of the room as he could – perhaps he would find something useful that might help him escape.

The room was large, though rather bare. Two silk hard-backed armchairs stood on a Persian rug by the fire, the blue-green light reflecting nicely off the green silk of the seating. Across the room from the fireplace a small wooden table with matching chairs, intricately carved with coiling vipers, sat under a majestic tapestry depicting the Greek monster Echidna. Small steps led up to a large four-poster bed, its curtains open revealing Nagini coiled upon the pillows. To its side Harry spotted a wardrobe and an ornate wooden trunk. Aside from the fire, the only other source of light came from a small chandelier that hung at the center of the room. This combination made the room both dark and cold, which was not surprising, considering its owner.

"Is this not a fine place to call one's private chambers, right underneath the former home of the monster that belonged to Salazar himself? Of course, had you not done away with her, she would have made quite the attraction."

Voldemort twirled his wand and Harry fell onto the stone floor for the second time that morning. If he was in pain, the boy made no outward sign of it. The dark wizard continued.

"I'm sure we'll find somewhere for you in here. If you're good, perhaps I'll let you sleep at my feet."

Harry made a muffled sound of disgust. As if he had just realized his prisoner was still gagged, Voldemort turned to Harry and taunted, "Would you like me to remove the gag, boy? Would that make it easier for you to speak?"

Unable to spit out any clever retorts, and too proud to nod and ask for his gag to be removed, the young man glared at Voldemort, conveying all the hatred and spite he felt onto one look. The dark wizard chuckled.

"Tsk, tsk, Potter. Being rude will get you nowhere." He bent down menacingly and forcefully yanked out the gag.

Staring defiantly at his captor, Harry spoke in a calm and confident voice, "I don't see why you plan on keeping me, Tom. I fear neither pain nor death."

This comment only served to widen the wizard's dark smile. "I'm aware. Your performance in the Forbidden Forest was remarkable, and you proved yourself worthy, if foolish."

"Then just kill me already," Harry challenged, sounding almost annoyed.

"I will not indulge in your heroic delusions, boy. I've got better ways to extract revenge," a dangerous look settled over the already dangerous man, "I'm going to torture you with pleasure."

Harry's eyes shot open, and a look of confusion passed over his eyes.

"I can sense your puzzlement, but you will come to understand in time." The older man's face approached his prisoner's. "I'm going to do things to you, Potter, and I'm going to make you like them. You will relish being in my presence; you will worship me and that which I give you. Mark my words."

The younger boy's face grew red in both anger and embarrassment.

"You're crazy."

"Sticks and stones, Harry Potter," Voldemort purred as he ran a long-fingered hand down the bound body below him. Harry shuddered, and Voldemort smirked.

"What's the matter boy? Have you never been touched by another man?"

Harry mumbled through gritted teeth, "No."

"Have you ever wanted another man to touch you, boy?"

Again, Harry strained against his bonds. "Not… Interested… Ginny…"

"Ahh, the Weasley girl. Do you love her?"

There was a short pause in which Harry deliberated divulging this information, but he soon settled on the truth. "Yes."

"Weak."

Harry opened his mouth, ready to shout and unleash his fury and outrage, but Voldemort bent over his ear and cut him off before he could start. "She's probably in bed with the young Malfoy right now. How many times do you think he has spilled his seed inside of her? Three times? Four? He is young; I doubt she'll have much rest tonight. I'm told she's quite a beauty naked, just like your mother."

"SHUT UP!"

Voldemort chuckled. "Why, Potter, you think your mother escaped this sort of treatment? Just because she was dead doesn't mean–"

"STOP IT!"

"Hum… Shall we talk about you instead, then, Potter?" Voldemort flicked his wand and the boy's clothes disappeared beneath his bindings. "I'm sure you have lots to tell me about yourself." The dark wizard used his wand to lift up the lock of hair that obscured Harry's scar. Harry shuddered again.

Then suddenly Voldemort was in Harry's mind, shuffling through memories, reliving the boy's most horrendous moments, and searching for his darkest secrets.

Harry saw himself entering the Forbidden Forest with the apparitions of his parents; he felt again the terror of seeing George's face covered in blood. Harry saw Ron stab a swirling image of himself and Hermione making out, and subsequently felt himself kissing Cho, then Ginny. He relived the exhilaration and arousal he felt the first time Ginny placed his hands on her breasts, and the first time she let him take off her shirt. While Voldemort watched, Harry experienced again the many beatings he had received from Uncle Vernon, and the time he had blown up Aunt Marge.

In his mind, Harry saw Voldemort coming out of the cauldron in the graveyard, and felt the terror brought on by the ugly creature he found under a bench at King's Cross. Harry saw as he, embodying a snake, attacked Mr. Weasley, and felt the scream catch in his throat as he witnessed Wormtail strangle himself. He watched as the Dementors attacked Dudley; he relived saving Sirius from certain death during his third year. He saw Sirius die, over and over again. He watched everyone he had ever cared about dying in front of his eyes, sustaining life-threatening injuries, or both.

Voldemort emerged from Harry's mind a full hour later, full of powerful information. Harry, in turn, lay panting on the ground, his naked body covered in sweat.

"Tsk, Potter, had I known Cedric's death affected you so much, I would have made it much more memorable for you... However, I must say, I made a rather good move when I did off Sirius Black. I'm sure you know his cousin was more than happy to seal the deal for me."

Harry trembled, unable to speak.

"Dumbledore too, I had no idea you had been there to witness that. I suppose you also were frustrated with Draco's sheer inability to complete a simple task, but I suppose we all knew he was incompetent from the start. But why, I wonder," he mused, as he ran his fingers through the boy's hair, "Were you so distraught by the death of a _house elf_, the most insignificant of creatures."

Harry twitched.

"All these people _died_ for you, Harry. Even your stupid owl."

"Please," Harry whimpered.

"You killed your best friend's brother. How does that feel, Potter, to know that it's your fault these people are dead?"

"I… I didn't mean…"

"And to know that so many more will die as long as you continue to struggle?"

"No, no, I won't –" he mumbled.

"How will you stop me from killing all your little friends, Potter? Can you stop me?"

"Please, please," tears rolled down his cheeks, "I'll do anything."

"That's the spirit, boy. Now, roll over; I want to take a look at your perky little ass, and then we'll have some fun."

Harry sobbed, "No, please, anything but –"

"Every time you say no to me, a swift death order flies onto the hands of my executioner," Voldemort murmured as he caressed Harry's body, the ropes dissolving under his hand as he cast a wandless spell. The young wizard, still sobbing, held himself motionless, neither accepting the touch, nor recoiling from it. Voldemort's words going through his head, Harry's brain was in turmoil: he couldn't let anyone else get hurt because of him, but what Voldemort was asking him to do to was too much. He was desperate.

"Is there anything else I could do? Anything?" he pleaded, "Use me for target practice, beat me, I don't care, but please, please, don't do this."

"Do not," the older man's voice suddenly dropped, "Make me angry, boy. You may not care about your own pain and death, but I know for a fact you care about your friends'. I don't give a damn if they live or not."

The ropes now all dissolved, Harry's body relaxed for the first time in hours, and he groaned as his muscles were allowed to move. This also inadvertently gave Voldemort much more access, and he continued running his hands up and down Harry's chest.

"Does this feel good, Potter?"

In response, the boy tightly shut his eyes and shook his head violently, earning him a chuckle from Voldemort.

"It will in time, boy."

In the depths of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter whimpered again.

"Come on, boy, turn yourself over."

Harry slowly, deliberately, shifted so as to give Voldemort a full view of his backside. He shuddered at the noise of approval that came from the older man's throat.

"Yes, Potter, you will do just fine."


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: rape (non-graphic)

* * *

Luna could think of nothing besides running. Slung across Fenrir Greyback's shoulder, she felt ever step he took as he bolted through the trees. From the moment the man had ran across the Hogwarts grounds and into the Forbidden Forest, Luna had been trying to track their movements and memorize the way back, but the thick canopy made it difficult to locate the sun, and the werewolf kept turning corners unexpectedly. She was tired, her entire self held together by very fine strings of hope. Luna, however, was strong – she had spent months as a prisoner in Malfoy Manor, survived torture sessions that lasted hours, and kept herself alive the entire time. She told herself she could survive, for she would never give up, she hoped.

The trees rushed by as the man kept an impossibly fast pace. Even in the midst of danger, Luna found herself appreciating the beauty of the woods around her. Tall pines rose from seas of the greenest moss, oblivious to the young woman being carried off beneath. The cool forest air ruffled her hair and fogged Greyback's panting breaths. Despite all the evil around her, Luna knew there was still beauty in this place.

They had been going for at least an hour when Greyback stopped and unceremoniously dropped her on the forest floor. The girl looked around, but before she could run, Fenrir dragged her towards a stream.

"Drink."

Luna considered challenging the order, but she knew she was too weak to fight a werewolf, especially without her wand, which had been taken away upon her capture. She lowered herself down and cupped some water to her lips while Greyback stood behind her and watched. When she was done, he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder again and began making his way across the forest.

Before too long, they had arrived in a small clearing, in the middle of which stood a massive, ancient oak. Greyback walked up to it, raked his long fingernails across a ridge, and the bark there vanished, giving them a hole to crawl through. The man pushed Luna through, shoving her forward into the crawlspace. Greyback followed close behind.

Luna could feel the packed earth beneath her hands and feet as she went down the dirt tunnel. It was dark, and she wished she had her wand. A few feet further down she arrived in Greyback's den. It was small, but tall enough that Luna could stand up straight, though it forced Greyback to bend over. Luna could feel the buzzing of the magic that protected this small place – she reckoned there was a spell holding the entire structure in place as well, as they did not seem to be too far underground. The roots of the oak poked through here and there; Greyback used them to hang various bundles. A dirty old mattress lay by the dirt wall opposite a trunk with an assortment of necessities. The den had several light and ventilation holes, but they did nothing to dissipate the strong musky smell of the place.

Greyback said nothing. He simply sat himself down on the mattress and stared up at Luna, who was looking about with interest, as if she had forgotten the danger she was in.

"Come here, my pretty," the man commanded with a husky voice.

She knew what he wanted and it made her nauseous.

Luna looked at him, analyzing her options. Running away would do her more harm than good, and she doubted she would even make it out of the den. She could struggle and fight back, but she would probably end up more hurt than anything. Besides, something told her Fenrir liked it when his victims struggled, and she was not about to give him that satisfaction. Begging for mercy would only get her laughed at.

Knowing she must show no reaction, Luna walked up to the man. She did not shiver when he ran his large hand up her leg, and did not shy away when he took her hand and guided her down to him. When he began to pull up her shirt, she stared into his eyes, never showing fear. Greyback pushed her on her back and removed her shoes and trousers, his eyes devouring her body. Luna propped herself up on her elbow and watched with nothing but empty curiosity on her face.

Greyback leaned back against the packed earth wall, kicked off his shoes, and motioned for Luna to come closer.

"Come here, pretty girl. I want you to sit on my lap."

Luna followed his orders and settled herself on the man's thighs, facing him. She could feel his erection against her, and she wondered slightly what it would be like – she had never been with a man before, not even kissed anyone.

Greyback began touching and groping her, paying no mind to whether Luna was enjoying herself. His rough hands scraped her shoulders and thighs, his nails scratching her pale skin. The young woman gasped once when he first squeezed her breasts, but after that made no other noise. Greyback seemed to be enjoying himself, playing with his catch. Once or twice he looked at her face; her lack of expression seemed to amuse him, and he smiled at her the most chilling smile she had ever seen.

"Undress me, poppet." His lips curled in a victorious sneer.

Luna quickly pulled off his tattered shirt and then slid off his lap to remove his dirty trousers. His erection sprang free as Luna watched, perplexed. He watched her undress him like a wolf watching his prey, licking his lips. When she was done, she looked up to see him advancing on her. Remaining stoic, she lay back and let herself be caught.

Greyback pounced on her, pinning her arms above her head. He growled into her ear, and with no warning, shoved his length into her.

Luna felt the pain, but she was elsewhere. In her mind, she was flying kites with her mother in a field of the greenest grass. Nothing, not even Greyback pounding into her or angrily suckling her breasts, could bring her out of it. She barely even noticed when, in the height of his orgasm, the beast above her bit at her shoulder, drawing blood.

The next morning, Luna woke up alone. She was in pain, but paid no mind to it; it had been almost a year since she had known a day free of aches and soreness, of bleeding wounds and swollen bruises. She found her clothes – the same clothes she had worn during the battle, given to her by Fleur after she had come to her from Malfoy Manor – strewn across the ground. Quickly, she dressed herself, eyes and ears on high alert for her captor. He did not seem to be anywhere near. He had probably left her for dead, or assumed she would be too weak to flee. This could be her chance for escape.

Thinking quickly, Luna grabbed a dirty rag and bundled into it whatever she could find – stale bread, some healing herbs, and a rusty jackknife. She quickly climbed out of the dirt hole, looking for any sign of Greyback. The werewolf was nowhere in sight. Luna made her decision. She did not even spare the place a last look as she picked a random direction and ran.

* * *

Author's Note: Did anyone notice Fenrir has a _husky_ voice? Ahhh, pun x) On another note, so sorry I've taken so long to update! My next chapter is already half-written, so hopefully it'll come soon. As always, comments/feedback is much appreciated!


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